Little Black Sketch Book
by LockWhoSuper
Summary: John likes to draw Sherlock without the detective knowing about it, but as we all know Sherlock finds out things one way or another and Sherlock finds Johns little black sketch book. Humour, a little fluffy on Johns side when he is describing the detective.


Disclaimer- I do not own BBC Sherlock or the characters, this story is not making me or anyone else any money.

John Watson has a hobby, one that most people don't know about. He never really put much thought into it, and didn't really do it all that often until he met a certain detective with perfect features. Preferring not to indulge in his hobby where people could see, John hid behind closed doors, curled up in his bed before even thinking about opening a certain book or holding certain pencils.

Before Afghanistan John would draw simple beautiful things, like flowers or the ocean and sometimes he would even paint. After Afghanistan John didn't even so much as glance at his little black sketch book until he met Sherlock Holmes.

Sherlock was by far the most handsome, beautiful man John had ever laid eyes upon, openly bi-sexual since he was in high-school John found himself instantly attracted to the slightly psychotic man.

Its been months since John moved in with Sherlock and he has drawn the man in every way he could imagine since the day they met. John tried to keep his hobby hidden from Sherlock, afraid that the detective might criticize his work and stop John from ever drawing him again. But of course like everything else, Sherlock found out.

John was sitting in his room hiding from Sherlock, preferring to spend his day off in the quiet of his room instead of being harassed by the detective because he was bored, Lestrade hadn't given them a case for a few days.

John had just finished drawing the outline for the detectives bow lips when he heard the man shout from downstairs, John could faintly work out that his name was being called, probably a case then John thought, or he had set the table on fire again. It probably wasn't the wisest choice but John decided to ignore the shouting from the detective, he had wanted to finish his latest sketch before lunch.

Concentrating on his art, John didn't hear the detective excitedly bound up the stairs to Johns room to inform him of a new case. Bursting into Johns room, Sherlock swung the door back on its hinges and it hit the wall with a loud bang, jumping six feet out of his skin John swore and threw the pencil he was holding towards the direction of the loud noise.

"Case John there's a case!" Sherlock shouted, too excited about a murder to even notice that John threw a pencil at him.

"Jesus Christ Sherlock!" John shouted back at the man, "you could of bloody knocked." Rubbing his face John breathed slowly in and out settling his racing heart.

"Lestrade called John, we have a case... John, what is that?"

Frowning John followed Sherlock's gaze to discover what the detective was talking about, John blushed and let out a string of curses while he frantically folded up his little black sketch book and shoved it under his mattress. Jumping up from his bed John walked his way over to Sherlock and pushed him out of his room, "it was nothing Sherlock, forget it." John continued to push Sherlock down the stairs and away from his sketch book.

"But John, I want to know what it was. It kind of looked like photographs of me-" Sherlock wined before John cut him off telling him to shut up and forget about it. Quickly changing the subject John began to quiz Sherlock about the new case Lestrade had given them, this effectively distracted the detective and John soon stopped worrying that he was going to bring it up again.

But just because Sherlock didn't bring it up again, it didn't mean that he had forgotten about it.

A few days later after the case was over and done with and John was working at the clinic, Sherlock found that it was the perfect opportunity to cure his curiosity and finally find out what John was doing with those photographs of him. Taking the stairs up to Johns room two at a time, the detective opened the door to Johns room and swept across the floor towards his bed, kneeling down Sherlock stuck his hand under the mattress of Johns bed and felt around before his hand came into contact with a book.

Pulling the book out from underneath Johns mattress Sherlock straightened and studied the black cover, Sherlock deduced that it was well used, and more than a few years old, there was paint smudged and flicked across it. Opening the book to the inside cover Sherlock's eyes skimmed over the words 'property of John. H. Watson,' flipping through the next few pages Sherlock found drawings and a few paintings of fruit, flowers, landscapes, typical boring things.

As Sherlock got further into the book, he found that John had started getting more confident in his artistic skills, each line was becoming more stronger than the last. Sherlock turned another page and his eyes looked into another set, blinking Sherlock lifted his hand and lightly stroked the very realistic sketch, turning more pages the detective realized that John had begun drawing him.

Hands that belonged to the detective started appearing on the next few pages, John was able to capture Sherlock;s hands in many different moments, from holding a mug of tea to his riding crop or a brain from his latest experiment. After a few more pages of random singular sketches of Sherlock's body parts there was a waist up drawing of Sherlock lying down on the couch in his typical 'mid palace' pose, becoming more and more impressed at Johns ability to make a sketch extremely realistic, Sherlock flicks through the last few pages of Johns sketch book.

On the last few pages there were portraits of the detective, his curls were mapped out perfectly, his eyes looked like they were looking right back at you, his cheek bones were defined and his bow lips portrayed a different kind of emotion in each portrait. So these were the photographs Sherlock thought John was looking at, on the last page there was an unfinished sketch of the detective laughing. This one was the one John was working on before Sherlock had interrupted for the case a few days ago.

Flipping back through the book Sherlock focused on the dates of the drawings, the first drawing of the detective was the set of eyes, dated only 24 hours after John had met him. Unsure of what to make of Johns little black sketch book, Sherlock took it back down the stairs with him and waited in the kitchen until his blogger got home.

A few hours later John returned home from work to find the detective sitting in his place at the kitchen table, John shrugged off his jacket and threw it on the back of his own chair and slumped down into the seat.

"Hello Sherlock" John said politely and Sherlock replied with a quiet "hello John."

"Tea?" Questioned John as he stood back up to go prepare the kettle for a cup, Sherlock just nodded as John fluttered around the kitchen pulling together everything he needed for his tea. Once the kettle was on its was to boiling John leaded against the kitchen counter and studied the detective, "what did you get up to today?" Asked John, not really wanting to find a new kind of mold in the bathroom, or one of his jumpers in the bin after Sherlock used it in another jumper destroying experiment.

"I found your sketch book" Sherlock said bluntly and gestured to where it was sitting on the table right in front of him, John froze and wondered why he hadn't seen it in front of the detective earlier.

"You didn't look through it did you?" John asked blushing, already knowing the answer.

Sherlock just nodded and the kettle whistled from behind John, making the detective his cup of tea John handed it to him and then prepared his own. Johns blush got deeper as he sank back down into his chair and just watched the steam raise and swirls around his cup of tea.

"I didn't know you were so talented John," looking up John just blinked at the compliment Sherlock just gave him

"What?" John huffed in disbelief, "you're not mad?"

"Of course not John, its quite flattering really."

"I don't really know what to say" said John before he took a sip of his tea, avoiding the detectives gaze

"Are you embarrassed John?"

John just nodded.

"Well you shouldn't be John, I don't mind you drawing me. You really are quite talented, I've never seen anything else quite like what you can do, you draw me so realistically. When I first saw them I thought they were photographs, you could probably sell some of these if you wanted to. Why did you try to hide this John?" said Sherlock and John just shrugged, taking another sip of tea, stalling.

"I was afraid of what you would say, what you might of thought" John replied slowly after a short amount of time.

"Why do you care so much about what other people think?" snarled Sherlock and John just shook his head and looked away from the detective again, "why did you draw me?" Asked the detective.

John just smiled and told him that he was beautiful, his bone structure and his impossible eyes where absolutely perfect, "its a shame more people don't draw you."

"You think I'm beautiful?'' Sherlock asked, unsure of what else to say.

John just smiled again "of course I do, absolutely." The silence that followed wasn't awkward, it just made John uncomfortable as Sherlock started at him, not saying anything after Johns little confession.

John finished off his tea that had long since stopped steaming and almost spat his last mouthful everywhere when Sherlock broke the silence offering to model for him.


End file.
